Love Knows No Bounds
by Carlow
Summary: Just days before his trial, Frank discovers that Peter & Carla are in a relationship. How will he react?
1. Chapter 1

Carla's Flat

8:12 am

"We can't keep doing this, Peter." Carla sighed, she was completely and utterly exhausted.

"Of course we can," He insisted. "I can't give this up, not now. It's just too damn good."

"But it isn't right." She reasoned, trying to make him see sense.

"Who cares?" Peter argued, his nonchalance rather endearing – but foolish nonetheless.

"I do!" Carla exclaimed, putting down her fork and pushing the plate of food away. "I'm starting to get fat!"

"Don't be daft! You're gorgeous." He said, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips – the smell of chocolate on his breath a welcome change from tobacco.

"And you're biased," She grinned, waving him off playfully as he tried to shove another forkful of cake in her mouth. "I never should have taken you to that bakery."

"But boy am I glad you did," Peter smiled, he'd been doing a lot of that lately. "I like to think of it as 'our' place."

"Yeah, well we don't need to go to 'our' place every time we see each other ya know."

"I didn't hear you complaining last night when you polished off that custard tart…"

"Oy! Watch it, you." Carla chuckled, walloping him on the head with a pillow. She loved moments like this. They were few and far between which only made her cherish their time together even more. Soon he would have to leave her – to go home to his wife and son. But for now, Peter Barlow was all hers and Carla was determined to enjoy every last second they had together.

"Let's go on holiday." Peter suggested, a wistful expression on his face.

"Are you mad?" Carla laughed.

"Probably," He agreed, putting his plate down on the coffee table and reaching over to pull her into his lap. "But I don't care. I want to be with you, Carla. I want to take you away from all this."

"You know I can't leave now," Carla sighed, burrowing her face in his sweater. "Frank's trial is next week."

"And that is exactly why you need to get away," Peter reasoned, gently running his fingers through her hair. "I hate seeing you so stressed."

"And what about Leanne?" Carla asked, for what seemed like the millionth time since their affair had begun. She couldn't wait for the day when she no longer had to consider another woman's feelings when making plans to spend time with the man she loved.

"Don't worry about her," Peter said reassuringly. "At this point, she'll probably be glad to see the back of me."

"What are you on about?" Carla asked, sitting up to face him. Was there trouble in paradise?

"I haven't exactly been the ideal husband lately," He confessed, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "It's hard playing happy family with Leanne when all I can think about it being with you."

"Where do you want to go then?" Carla asked, trying to hide her excitement. She knew planning a holiday with Peter was risky right now – to say the least. But at the moment, she really didn't care.

"Anywhere," He replied, obviously pleased to see that she was on board. "You said LA was nice. Maybe I could get spotted by one of them talent scouts myself…"

"I don't think Hollywood is ready for you, Peter." She teased. "Besides, it's too crowded. If we're really going to do this, I want to go somewhere quiet where I can have you all to meself."

"I couldn't agree more." Peter sighed, leaning forward to kiss her deeply – her lips parting eagerly in anticipation.

"How about Dubai?" He asked when they finally came up for air. "I'd love to take you to one of them six star hotels…"

"Do you have any idea how much those resorts cost?" Carla asked, trying to bring him back down to reality.

"Only the best for the love of me life." He replied, nuzzling his nose against her's.

"I'm touched," She said honestly, resisting the urge to kiss him again. "But I'd be more than satisfied with a weekend away in Blackpool, as long as I was with you."

"And here I thought you were going to be high maintenance." He teased.

"I'm not as big of a snob as everyone thinks I am ya know." Carla replied rather defensively. She thought after all this time, Peter knew her better than that.

"I know, Love. I was only kidding." He rushed to explain, not wanting to ruin the mood. "Blackpool it is then. You better start packing."

"Oy, not so fast!" Carla reasoned. "I need to see if Michelle will be okay running the factory while I'm gone."

"Alright. And I'll think of something to tell Leanne." He declared confidently. He was getting far too good at this whole adultery thing.

"We've got to be careful ya know. If Frank gets wind of this…"

"Don't worry about him," Peter reassured her, leaning forward to press his forehead against her's. "He's got more important things to be concerned about."

"Are we really going to do this?" Carla asked, insecurity evident in her tone of voice.

"Yes, we are." Peter replied, taking her in his arms and holding her close. "You do whatever it is you need to do and I will meet you back here in a few hours."

"Now where have I heard that before…" Carla sighed, afraid of being let down yet again.

"Look at me," Peter demanded, lifting her chin until her eyes met his. "I swear on me son's life that nothing is going to stop me from going on holiday with you."

She refused to think about all of the reasons why this was such a bad idea. All that mattered to Carla at that moment was getting to spend a weekend away with the man she loved.

"Right then," She smiled, eyes filled with excitement. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Carla's Flat

1:23 pm

She was all packed and ready to go. After ringing Michelle on her mobile and briefly explaining that she needed to go out of town on business for a few days, Carla had quickly thrown some clothes in her smallest Louis Vuitton bag and made sure everything in the flat was in order.

In the bathroom, she had hesitated a bit. A brand new box of tampons sat in her medicine cabinet. She'd been so wrapped up with work, Peter and Frank's upcoming trial that Carla couldn't remember if her period was due soon or not. It seemed like ages since she'd last needed to use the annoying little things.

Was she late?

Carla couldn't be certain. In the end, she threw the box of tampons in with the rest of her things – just in case.

She felt rather foolish sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for Peter to arrive. Carla desperately hoped that he hadn't changed his mind again. She knew that leaving Leanne and Simon was difficult for Peter, but going on holiday had been his idea. Carla could only hope that Peter would stick to his word this time – she didn't know if she could bare another rejection.

As if on cue, there was a knock on her door – someone must have let him into the building.

"I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind." Carla said loudly enough for Peter to hear as she unlocked the door to let him in.

Her eyes widened in terror as Frank Foster shoved his way into her flat, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hello, Carla." He grinned, glancing over her shoulder at the luggage sitting beside her couch. "Going Somewhere?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Carla screamed, backing away from Frank – his domineering presence casting a dark shadow over her much smaller frame.

Last time they were stood here together, she'd wound up on the floor – screaming for help as his rough hands violently pried her legs apart. Carla shuddered in disgust. The memories of that night were flooding back to her now, like a reoccurring nightmare she could never fully wake up from.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to answer a question with a question?" Frank sneered obnoxiously, taking another step towards her – invading her personal space once more. "Where are you going?"

"That's none of your damn business!" She reminded him, grabbing the cordless phone off the charger. "Now, get out of here before I call the police."

"Go ahead, ring them." Frank dared her, an overly confident grin on his smug little face. "And while you're at it, why don't you fill them in on your little rendezvous with Peter Barlow?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She argued, her confidence faltering ever so slightly.

How much did he know?

"Wow. You're getting very good at lying, aren't you Carla?" Frank smiled, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I know you two are sleeping together. Probably been at it for months now, years even…"

"That's not true." She argued.

"Are you sure about that?" Frank said as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a large envelope, spilling its contents onto the floor for her to see. "These photos seem to tell a different story."

Dozens of black and white photographs lay scattered on the hardwood floor. Some were from the day they'd spent in the park, laughing and kissing as they strolled arm in arm – completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. Others appeared to have been taken outside her flat as she kissed Peter goodbye - or hello.

Carla couldn't help but feel violated – that was one thing Frank seemed to have a knack for.

"Have you been stalking me?" She accused, crouching down to gather up the photos.

"Of course not. I have far more important things to do with my time." Frank explained, staring down at her as though she were something he'd just stepped in. "I hired a private investigator to find proof that you really are a lying little slut."

Carla stopped what she was doing and glared up at him, blind rage causing a surge of adrenaline to course through her veins - clouding her already tainted judgement.

"You bastard!" She screamed, leaping up to slap him across the face.

"I'd watch it if I were you," Frank warned, grabbing her by the wrist to stop her from hitting him. "Wouldn't want to add assault to your list of offences."

"Get your hands off her or so help me God, I will kill you." Peter's voice interrupted their fight and Carla was beyond relieved to see him. He was stood in the doorway, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a look of pure rage on his face.

"Well, if it isn't the booze loving Bookie come to the rescue." Frank sneered defiantly, releasing Carla's wrist and she immediately moved to go stand beside Peter. "So, Barlow. How are you enjoying my sloppy seconds?"

"Are you alright, Love? Did he hurt you?" Peter asked, completely ignoring the other man.

"I'm fine." Carla assured him, though she was visibly shaken. "Frank was just leaving."

"Looks like the two of you are the ones who are leaving." Frank observed, motioning towards their luggage. "You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves. You'll be hearing from my solicitor when you return."

"And you'll be hearing from mine," Carla shot back. "I have a protective order against you, in case you've forgotten."

"Let's just see how well this slanderous lawsuit of yours holds up in court once the jury gets a look at those photos."

"What are you on about?" Peter asked, confusion momentarily replacing his anger.

"I'll let your girlfriend fill you in." Frank grinned smugly as he walked passed them both and left the flat.

"He knows about us, Peter. He knows everything…" Carla sighed, she couldn't believe this was happening.

"I gathered that much," He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you sure he didn't hurt you? Are you really alright?"

"Of course I'm not alright!" Carla shrieked, gesturing towards the pile of evidence on the floor. "Look at these photos! Frank has all the proof he needs now to make me look like lying, cheating little cow who only cried rape to get back at her ex!"

"All these photos prove is that you and I are together _now_," Peter reasoned, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. A tear rolled down her cheek and he quickly wiped it away. "Our relationship has nothing to do with Frank's attack."

"But if the jury finds out that I lied about you, what's to stop them thinking I lied about being raped as well?" Carla pointed out – she looked so defeated, so completely and utterly hopeless.

"That isn't going to happen," He promised. "I'll get up there and testify myself if that's what it takes."

"You can't do that," Carla argued. "I won't let you lie under oath for me."

"I don't plan on lying," Peter declared, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "I will stand up in court and profess my undying love for you if you'd like."

"You really mean that?" Carla asked, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"With all my heart," He whispered, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice. "Now come on, grab your things. We've got a plane to catch."

"A plane? I thought we were going to Blackpool." She questioned, grabbing her suitcase and purse.

"Change of plans." Peter revealed as he grabbed his own bag and began ushering her towards the door.

"What are you up to, Barlow?" Carla asked, a mixture of suspicion and excitement written all over her gorgeous face.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." Was all Peter would reveal, and with that they left the flat and their problems behind.

For a little while at least.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks SO much for the great feedback, everyone! Originally I was planning on skipping over all the holiday stuff and just getting back to the drama with Frank. But I think our fave couple deserve a bit of fun first, don't you agree? Let's just call this chapter the calm before the storm. This is probably going to be a fairly long chapter, so I'm posting it in two parts. Hope you all enjoy!

_Borgo Santo Pietro_, Tuscany

The villa was absolutely breathtaking – in fact, Carla was fairly certain she had never seen anything quite so beautiful in her entire life.

The car ride from the airport had seemed to drag on forever, with nothing but rolling countryside and the occasional goat to peer at through the window. The roads in this part of Italy were unpaved and extremely bumpy. Carla had even gotten carsick at one point, something she had never had the displeasure of experiencing before. Then again, she'd never spent hours driving through the hills of Tuscany before either.

When they had finally arrived at _Borgo Santo Pietro_, Carla had to admit that the treacherous ride there had definitely been worth it. Set atop luscious green hills and surrounded by sprawling gardens on either side, the once ancient villa had obviously been restored back to its former glory. It looked like something out of an old film. It was such a contrast to the usual hotels and resorts Carla stayed in while traveling. Her tastes usually ran more towards the chic and modern – boutique style hotels situated in the heart of whatever city she happened to be in. Carla liked being close to the shops and restaurants, the constant hum of activity in the big city streets felt oddly comforting.

But as Peter took her by the hand and led her up the steps towards their secluded little hideaway in the Tuscan countryside, Carla had a feeling she could definitely get used to this.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Suite 12, _Borgo Santo Pietro_

4:16pm

"Well, what d'ya think?" Peter asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. Big, romantic gestures had never really been his style. Takeaway and a rented film had been his idea of romance in the past – never one to waste his time and money on planning something quite this elaborate. But being with Carla had inspired him to pull out all the stops. He had meant it when he said he wanted to woo her – to make her realise what an incredible woman she truly was and how unbelievably lucky he was to have her in his life.

She had told him grand gestures weren't necessary, but Peter just couldn't help himself. He wanted to spoil her. After everything she had been through recently, Carla deserved to be swept off her feet and Peter was determined to do just that.

"It's gorgeous, Peter. Absolutely gorgeous." Carla sighed, walking towards the glass patio doors that lead out to their private terrace.

"Then you should fit right in." He declared, although even this picturesque villa couldn't hold a candle to her flawless beauty.

He really was one lucky sonofabitch.

"Why, Peter Barlow. Who knew you could be so romantic?" Carla teased, her gaze still fixated on the incredible view of the garden.

"What can I say?" He began, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her slender waist. "Being in love with you is having quite the positive effect on me."

"I can see that," she chuckled, the sound warming his heart. "But you don't have to spoil me like this, ya know."

"I know." Peter replied, brushing her hair aside and placing a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Don't you ever try and change for me, Peter." She continued, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips. "You know I love you just the way you are."

"Ditto." Was his muffled response, his mouth was busy trailing kisses down her jaw.

"You're not listening to me, are you?" Carla asked, tilting her head to the side slightly to give him better access.

"Nope." He grinned mischievously as he nibbled on her earlobe.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Carla smiled, turning around so that they were facing each other.

"Whatever you want, darling." Peter replied, winking at her playfully. "I'm all yours."

"For now." She muttered and Peter could feel her mood start to change.

"Eh, none of that." He scolded, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "This holiday is about you and me. Nothing and nobody else matters, you got that?"

She nodded in agreement, but Peter wasn't convinced. Well, if his words weren't enough to make Carla see that she was the most important thing in the world to him – he would just have to prove it to her in other ways.

Good thing he'd planned ahead.

"Come on," Peter said, placing a kiss on her lips. "Let's get dressed."

"Don't you mean undressed?" She teased, and it took all of Peter's willpower not to throw her onto the bed and ravage her right then and there.

"There'll be time for that later," He explained, resisting the urge to kiss her again – knowing me wouldn't be able to stop. "I'm taking you out."

"Where?" She asked, her curiosity and excitement were evident.

"It's a surprise." He replied, unwilling to give her any more information.

"But how will I know what to wear if I don't know where we're going?" She reasoned.

"Go on and have a look in the closet," Peter instructed her, he'd already taken care of her outfit for the evening. "I think you'll find everything you need in there."

"What are you doing to me?" Carla sighed, obviously impressed by the lengths he'd gone to so far.

Peter would do anything in the world for her, and he was determined to prove it.


	4. Chapter 4

Carla felt beautiful – fat, but beautiful.

The dress Peter had bought her was absolutely stunning. Cocktail length, strapless, crimson red in colour and positively skin tight. She had to check the label twice to make sure it was indeed her size. How in the hell had she managed to gain so much weight in such a short period of time? Her breasts in particular seemed to have gone up an entire cup size overnight! Not that Peter was complaining mind you. Carla had caught him with his eyes glued to her chest more than once during dinner. Obviously he appreciated her new, fuller figure.

That didn't stop Carla from ordering nout but a salad for dinner.

"Are you having a good time, Love?" Peter asked, as they strolled arm in arm down the street. They had left the restaurant a little while ago and decided to go for a walk through the quaint little town. All of the shops had long since closed, but there were still a fair amount of people out and about. It was unusually warm for this time of year, so they were in no rush to head back to the villa just yet.

"I'm in Tuscany with the man of me dreams," Carla smiled, unbelievably happy for the first time in her troubled life. "I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Me either," Peter agreed, stopping to hold her in his arms – the moonlight casting an effervescent glow over them both. "Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?"

"I think you've mentioned it once or twice, yes." Carla grinned. He'd been gazing at her all evening like a lovesick teenager – and she was thoroughly enjoying the attention. No one had ever made her feel like this before. At that moment, she could care less about Frank and the upcoming trial. All that mattered to her was being with Peter. She really couldn't fathom the idea of living without him anymore.

"Marry me." Peter blurted out suddenly, startling them both. Carla started laughing, unsure of how else to react to his impromptu proposal. He couldn't possibly be serious.

"You're only allowed one wife at a time, Peter. Remember?" She teased, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

"Yes, I've learnt that lesson thank you very much." He grinned, taking her bigamy joke in stride.

"What I mean is, I want you to marry me one day." Peter explained, his voice growing serious as he reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "When this whole mess with Frank is over and I've ended things with Leanne."

"Who knows when that'll be…"Carla sighed, reluctant to get her hopes up.

"Soon. I promise you, Sweetheart." Peter vowed, and she couldn't help but want to believe him. "I can't live like this anymore – skulking around and missing you like crazy all the time. I need to be with you, Carla. Every day, for the rest of our lives."

"I want that too," Carla admitted, holding back tears as she wrapped her arms around him. "I want that so much."

He kissed her then, passionately. His lips devouring hers in a way that let Carla know exactly what Peter had planned for her when they returned to their suite. The anticipation was maddening. They'd made love dozens of times before, but somehow – this felt different. It were as though something had just shifted in their relationship and every touch, every kiss held a new significance. It was completely daft, but on some level Carla felt as though they had just exchanged wedding vows.

And perhaps in a hypothetical sort of way, they had.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Suite 12, _Borgo Santo Pietro_

8:10am

Carla was pregnant – Peter was almost sure of it now.

He had been noticing the subtle changes in her body for weeks, but he didn't want to make any assumptions. What the hell did he know about these things, anyroad? It weren't as though he had spent much time around pregnant women in the past. Simon's mum had never bothered to share the news of her pregnancy with him, and he were so distracted when Leanne was carrying their child that he had barely noticed any changes at all with her.

But despite his limited experience in the matter, somehow Peter just knew that Carla was pregnant. His suspicions had been confirmed last night, and then again this morning when Carla had gotten ill and rushed to the toilet looking pale as a ghost. Peter had wanted to help her, but she brushed off his concern – claiming she was fine.

Well, she sure as hell didn't sound fine.

When Carla finally emerged from the loo – she looked utterly exhausted and completely drained. Peter wondered if she had figured it out yet, or if she were still in denial?

"Dodgy salad." Was all Carla said as she pulled back the covers and climbed back into bed.

"Right," Peter nodded, kissing her gently on the forehead as he pulled her close. "I ate the salad too, ya know."

"Well, I guess you have a stronger stomach than I do." She reasoned, unwilling to consider any other possibility.

Yep. She were definitely in denial.

"Look, Carla…."

"What time is our flight?" She interrupted him suddenly, and Peter could tell she just wasn't ready to hear what he was about to say. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he was ready to say it! He knew Carla would be an amazing mum – although he suspected she would have some serious doubts about that. But he were rubbish at being a dad. It still amazed him that Simon had turned out to be such a great kid, despite having him as a father. He could only hope that this new baby would turn out equally as normal.

"Half past twelve." Peter finally replied, deciding he had best leave it for now. "The taxi will be here in an hour."

"We'd better make a move then." Carla sighed as she sat up in bed and ran her hands through her hair. Even after being ill, with no makeup on and her hair a right mess – Carla Connor was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on.

"As soon as we get back, I'm going to end things with Leanne." Peter assured her, and he really and truly meant it this time. Frank knew about them now – it were only a matter of time before news of their affair hit the street. No point in dragging things out any further. He needed to set things right with Leanne and Simon so that he could stop living a lie and focus on Carla. She needed him now more than ever and he was determined to be there for her, and their unborn child.

"Peter, please don't make me any more promises. Alright?" Carla pleaded, the tears in her eyes letting him see just how very fragile she was at the moment. "It hurts too badly when you don't keep them."

"Come 'ere, Love." Peter sighed as he wrapped Carla up in his arms and kissed her softly on the lips. He never wanted to hurt her again as long as he lived.

Peter was determined to set things right. As soon as they got home, he would tell Leanne that their marriage was over. He knew it weren't going to be easy, but he couldn't put it off any longer.

Things were about to change, for the better.

At least he hoped so.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Frank's solicitor hadn't been impressed by the photos of Barlow and his slut of an ex-fiancee.

Apparently, evidence of their affair wouldn't necessarily work in Frank's favour. Carla's solicitor could always make it seem as though Frank's jealousy over her relationship with Peter is what drove him over the edge and lead to the rape.

Which was true, of course. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

Frank was furious. He wasn't about to let the pair of them get away with ruining his reputation and sending him to prison while they lived happily ever after.

He hoped they were enjoying their holiday.

Perhaps he would surprise Carla with a little 'welcome home' party when she returned?

She always did love surprises…


	5. Chapter 5

The next day

Carla's flat

5:20pm

"Oooo, what's in the bag?" Michelle asked as Carla entered the flat.

"Toothpaste," She lied, trying to conceal the pregnancy test from her mate's prying eyes. "We were all out."

"You left work early to go buy toothpaste." Michelle said, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

"I had somat else to take care of as well. Is that alright with you?"

"Don't bite me head off, I was only curious."

"Yeah, well why don't you try and mind your own business for a change. Alright?"

"Blimey, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"I just need a bit of privacy – I've got a lot on me plate right now, in case you haven't noticed."

"Of course I've noticed, don't be daft. I were only trying to make conversation."

"I'm sorry, Michelle. I just need a bit of space right now." Carla sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Alright, I can take a hint!" Michelle shot back as she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the flat.

Carla would have to ring her up later and apologize. She really couldn't afford to alienate the one true mate she had left – especially not now. Not when she were gearing up to face her rapist in court while having a torrid affair with a married man whose child she might currently be carrying.

No, now was definitely not the time to start losing mates. Because if the pregnancy test she were about to take turned out to be positive, she were gonna need all the support she could get.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Peter's flat

5:30pm

"You still haven't told me about your trip," Leanne said as she stood in the kitchen making tea. "Did you manage to convince your mate to quit drinking?"

"What?" Peter replied – he hadn't been listening. He was too busy worrying about Carla. She'd been unusually quiet during their flight home last night. And she had barely said a word to him when he'd dropped her off at the flat. Peter didn't know if she were just worried about the upcoming trial or if it were something else.

Was she upset with him? Did she think he was going to change his mind again about ending things with Leanne? Peter had meant every word he'd said to her in Tuscany. He was going to tell his wife the truth – tonight. No more excuses, it was time to man up and face the firing squad.

"Daniel was his name, right?" Leanne continued her interrogation. "You said he'd fallen off the wagon again…"

"Oh, right. Yeah." Peter replied distractedly as he sent Carla another text. "He's fine now, yeah."

"Glad to hear it. Is that him you're texting?" Leanne asked, and something in her tone of voice made it clear that she knew full well it wasn't.

"No." Peter sighed, flipping his phone shut when Carla didn't reply. He should be over there comforting her, not sat here trying to end a marriage that never should've happened in the first place.

"It's Carla I've been texting." Peter admitted as he stood to face her, taking a deep breath as he prepared to confess his sins. "There is no Daniel. I made the whole thing up."

"What?" Leanne gasped, obviously caught off guard by his admission. "Are you drinking again, Peter? Is that why you've been lying to me, because if you are we can always…"

"I haven't touched a drop of booze since the anniversary." He declared, cutting her off. "Haven't even thought about it, actually. I've had other things on me mind."

"Like what?" She asked, crossing her arms in defiance. "Or should I say who?"

"Don't blame her for this," He pleaded. "Our marriage was in trouble long before I…"

"Go on, say it." Leanne shouted, her eyes beginning to well up with tears. "Long before you what?"

"Before I fell in love with Carla."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carla's flat

5:35pm

Peter kept texting her, but Carla just couldn't bring herself to respond. She was too busy staring at the test in her hand – willing the second little pink line to disappear so she wouldn't have to face this new reality.

She was pregnant.

How the hell did this happen? She was always so careful, meticulously taking her pill every morning like clockwork. It wasn't like her to be so careless. Maybe on a subconscious level, she had wanted this to happen? Carla knew Peter loved her, that much was obvious. But despite his feelings for her, he still hadn't left his wife.

Maybe she were hoping that a baby would persuade him to stop playing happy families with Leanne and finally commit to her instead?

"No." Carla whispered, the sound of her voice seeming too loud in the quiet confines of her bedroom. She would never be daft enough to think that a baby would fix things – she weren't some naïve kid.

This pregnancy was definitely an accident. She hadn't secretly planned it – hadn't been pining away at night, dreaming of ways to have Peter's baby.

_Peter's baby._

Somehow, it was easier for Carla to think of the baby as being solely his – as if she had nout to do with it. Picturing Peter as a father were easy – he was already an amazing dad to little Simon, and Carla had no doubt in her mind that he would be equally amazing with this baby as well.

She were the problem. Carla didn't know the first thing about being a mum and frankly, she liked it that way. Kids had never been part of the plan. She had never wanted to be a mother – she still didn't. The thought of failing this child the same way her own mum had failed her was absolutely terrifying.

Carla knew she just wasn't meant to be anybody's mum. But what other choice did she have now?

She couldn't get rid of it. Carla didn't know how, but somehow Peter had figured out she were pregnant even before she herself had realised. He hadn't said anything yet, but she knew it were only a matter of time before he finally confronted her about it.

And despite his own reservations about having another kid, Carla knew that Peter would never let her abort the baby. This pregnancy may not have been planned, but it were definitely happening – whether Carla liked it or not.

She heard the front door open and figured it were Michelle.

"I'll be out in a sec!" Carla shouted, hoping the other woman would be able to hear her through the closed bedroom door. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Carla shoved the pregnancy test underneath her pillow and tried to get her emotions in check.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Carla opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the living room.

It were empty.

"Michelle?" Carla called out, wondering where her mate had gone. She could have sworn she'd heard the front door open…

She were busy looking for signs that Michelle had been back, so busy that she didn't hear Frank sneak up behind her.

It all happened so quickly. Carla didn't even have time to scream as his large hand clamped down over her mouth and something sharp pierced her neck.

And as her vision blurred and she fell to the floor, Carla prayed that _her _baby wouldn't get hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

Well, it were finally over. His farce of a marriage had been weighing him down like a five ton elephant on his shoulders for months now. And as guilty as he felt for breaking Leanne's heart, Peter couldn't help but feel relieved.

It weren't as though his wife hadn't seen this coming. She had been suspicious of his friendship with Carla since the beginning. Leanne wasn't blind, she could see the obvious bond that existed between them. They had tried to fight it – tried to pretend that their shared love of booze was the only thing they had in common. But it were no use. Peter was completely, hopelessly in love with Carla Connor and there were no point in hiding it any longer.

Leanne had been furious and incredibly hurt as he described the depth of his betrayal. Peter hadn't left anything out – he owed her that much. Well, he did fail to mention the fact that Carla was probably pregnant with his child – but it didn't seem right telling Leanne about the baby when Carla hadn't even acknowledged it yet.

When everything was finally out in the open, Leanne had packed up her things and stormed out of the flat. She hadn't said as much, but Peter assumed she would be staying at the Rovers with Stella until things calmed down a bit. Simon was stopping at Ken and Dierdre's for the night, so his world wouldn't have to be turned upside down just yet.

Tomorrow he and Leanne would sit the little lad down and try to explain things to him as best they could. Peter was dreading that conversation more than anything. He hated letting his son down – again. But, it couldn't be helped. He just prayed that Simon would be able to forgive him eventually, and that he wouldn't take his anger and hurt out on Carla. He knew his son had grown to love Leanne as a mum and Peter would never dream of trying to change that. But hopefully Si would be able to have some type of relationship with Carla, eventually.

Peter tried to clear his head as he climbed the stairs to Carla's flat. Now that he'd dealt with Leanne, Peter was free to focus all of his energy and attention on Carla. He was worried about her. She hadn't returned any of his texts or phone calls which was extremely unlike her. Even when they were rowing, she had never given him the silent treatment before – it just wasn't her style.

"Carla?" Peter called out as he knocked on her door – surprised to find it unlocked. She never left the door open, especially after the attack.

Something was wrong.

He entered the flat, immediately surveying the living room – looking for anything suspicious, any sign of trouble. Everything seemed to be in order. Except for the fact that Carla was nowhere to be found.

Where on earth could she be?

"Peter," Michelle's surprised voice interrupted his search as she entered the flat and closed the door behind her. "What are you doing here – where's Carla?"

"I don't know." Peter sighed, glancing up at her briefly before averting his gaze. "I haven't been able to get hold of her all day."

"She were in a right state when I left earlier." Michelle explained.

"How so?"

"It's hard to explain, she just wasn't herself."

"Let me try ringing her again." Peter suggested, trying not to let Michelle see just how truly worried he was.

"You never answered my question," Michelle continued, a look of suspicion on her face. "What are you doing here? I know you two are mates, but…"

"Shhhhh!" Peter hissed. "Do you hear that?"

"Sounds like it's coming from Carla's room." Michelle replied, her attention momentarily diverted. A familiar song was playing and Peter immediately recognized it as being Carla's ringtone. Wherever she'd gone to – she'd left her phone behind.

Something was _very _wrong.

Peter bolted into the bedroom, searching through the covers as he tried to locate her missing phone.

"You seem awfully comfortable in here," Michelle observed, arms crossed as she stood in the doorway. "You been spending a lot of time in Carla's bedroom have you?"

"Shut it, Michelle." Peter growled impatiently, tossing pillows onto the floor – and that's when he saw it. Hidden underneath the duvet was Carla's cell phone…and what appeared to be a pregnancy test. He picked it up and read the results, already knowing what it would say.

"Is that what I think it is?" Michelle asked, grabbing the test out of his hand before he could stop her. "Carla's pregnant!"

"Yes." Peter confirmed, too busy worrying about Carla to bother denying it.

"And you're the father." She concluded, it didn't take a genius.

"Yes."

"Blimey," Michelle sighed, obviously shocked by his revelation. "No wonder she's been acting so weird lately."

"Where could she have gone?" Peter asked, more to himself than to Michelle.

"I'm sure Carla's just off clearing her head somewhere," She tried to reassure him, but Peter wasn't buying it. He knew something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut.

God, if anything had happened to her…

"So, how long has this been going on for then?" Michelle continued. "And what about Leanne?"

"I don't have time for this right now, alright? I need to find her." Peter explained as he rushed towards the door.

"Just answer me one thing."

"What?" Peter hissed, he was wasting time!

"Do you love her?" Michelle asked, the simple question causing him to pause. She wanted to know if he loved Carla? If he wasn't so overcome with worry, he probably would have laughed. Love didn't even begin to describe the way he felt about her.

She was everything.

"I love her. More than you could possibly imagine." Peter finally replied, the lump in his throat threatening to bring him to tears.

"Good," Michelle smiled, pleased by his response. "Go on then. She needs you."

Peter returned her smile, relieved to have at least one person's approval. He and Carla were about to become the town pariahs – a friendly face would soon be hard to find. But Peter didn't care. His reputation was the least of his concerns right now. All he cared about was finding Carla and making sure she was alright.

And if Frank Foster had anything to do with her disappearance, he was a dead man.


	7. Chapter 7

She had been screaming for help since waking up in the dingy old cellar, but it was quickly becoming apparent that no one could hear her. Frank had obviously chosen this location for a reason. There were no windows for her to escape through, no air vents she could crawl into and hide. She was trapped.

Carla couldn't help but feel weak and vulnerable as she sat in a corner, the concrete floor beneath her cold and unforgiving. A chill ran down her spine as she wrapped her arms around her knees in a vain attempt to try and keep warm.

Her mouth was dry and her throat painfully sore – as if she'd swallowed shards of glass. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and Carla could see the faint outline of a door at the other end of the room, faint slivers of light escaping through the cracks.

She wondered if Frank were stood on the other side of the door, waiting to come in and attack her again? Carla were almost grateful that he'd drugged her. At least she had been unconscious when he brought her here. Just the thought of him touching her was enough to make Carla want to vomit. She had briefly feared that Frank may have already….violated her while she were sleeping, but she knew that wasn't his style.

He liked his women to be conscious when he forced himself on 'em – liked seeing the fear in their eyes as he destroyed them.

Carla would rather die than live through that again.

But if he intended on killing her, she wouldn't make it easy for him. Carla would fight Frank with every last once of strength she had left in her body. She knew he were strong and nearly twice her size, but somehow she would find a way to survive.

She had way too much to live for now.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Frank's Factory

7:42pm

"How is the Wilson order coming along?"

"Ahead of schedule," Anne informed her son as the two of them were working late to finish up some last minute paperwork. "Sally has assured me it will be completed by tomorrow morning."

"Good," Frank smiled. "One less thing for me to worry about then."

On the surface he seemed confident, but Anne could tell her son wasn't looking forward to having his day in court.

"Son, you needn't worry about the trial tomorrow. You're innocent and soon everyone round here will know it."

"Oh, I'm not worried." Frank replied, seeming more sure of himself than he had in weeks. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the little tart didn't even have the guts to show up tomorrow."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Anne sighed, nothing would make her happier. "But I highly doubt we'll be so lucky. Carla wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to slander you in court."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that…" Frank grinned.

"Why do you say that?" Anne questioned, confused by her son's sudden change in attitude. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Oh, I'm sure there's _loads _he hasn't told you." Peter Barlow interrupted as he stood in the doorway, glaring at Frank as though he wanted to kill him right there on the spot.

"How did you get in here?" Anne demanded to know – shocked by his intrusion.

"Shouldn't leave your door unlocked," Peter replied. "Isn't that right, Frank?"

"I didn't realise the lovebirds had returned from holiday so soon," Frank said, ignoring Peter's comment as he stood up from his desk to face the other man. "And where is the lovely Mrs. Connor this evening?"

"You tell me." Peter hissed, a look of pure rage on his face.

"Exactly what are you implying, Barlow?"

"Carla's gone missing," Peter explained through gritted teeth. "And I know you're behind it."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Anne huffed indignantly. She wasn't going to stand here and listen to this man accuse her son of yet another heinous crime.

"If your girlfriend's gone AWOL, it's got nout to do with me."

"Bull." Peter yelled as he grabbed Frank by the collar and shoved him up against the wall. "If you've harmed one hair on her head, I swear to God – I will kill you."

"Oi, how dare you threaten my son! I should ring the police!" Anne screamed, concerned for her son's safety.

"Brilliant idea! Here, use my phone." Peter replied as he tossed his mobile at her, his other hand still firmly wrapped around Frank's neck.

"I don't know where she is." Frank managed to choke out.

"I don't believe you." Peter replied, tightening his grip.

"How could I have done something to her when I've been here at the factory all evening? Isn't that right, mum?"

"Yes." She lied, because he was her son and it was a mother's job to protect her son –no matter what.

"I don't believe either of you." Peter dismissed them both as he continued to strangle Frank.

"That's it. I'm calling the police." Anne declared as she frantically dialed 999.

Peter finally came to his senses and released her son. Anne immediately rushed to his side, phone still in her hand.

"Are you alright, Frank?"

"I'm fine," He assured her, his voice hoarse from the attack. "Hang up the phone, mother."

"But, Frank…."

"I said hang it up!" He yelled, grabbing the phone out of her hand and whipping it at Peter.

"Don't want the coppers involved, eh?" Peter observed, glaring at Frank suspiciously. "Got something to hide, Foster?"

"Get out of here!" Anne screamed, shoving the other man with all her might. She didn't want to hear any more of his baseless accusations. If Frank wouldn't let her ring the police, she would just have to get rid of Peter Barlow herself.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that Mrs. Foster." He replied, refusing to budge. "I'm not leaving until he tells me where she is."

"Before you start accusing my son of kidnapping your mistress, I suggest you consider another possibility."

"Such as?"

"Perhaps she's run off?" Anne suggested. "It wouldn't be the first time…"

"She wouldn't do that," Peter argued. "Not without telling me."

"Are you sure about that? She has been under a lot of stress recently. Perhaps she just needed a break?"

"From me?"

"From everything." Anne reasoned. She felt like she was beginning to get through to him.

"No," Peter shook his head vehemently, his attention shifting back to Frank. "This is your doing."

"Prove it." Frank shot back, a cocky grin on his face.

"You're a dead man." Peter replied, his voice eerily calm as he snatched his mobile off the table and finally left the room.

"What a lunatic!" Frank exclaimed as he straightened his collar and sat back down at his desk. "I will never understand what Carla sees in him."

Anne was struck by how calm Frank was – emotionless even. It were almost frightening, seeing him act this way. And why hadn't he let her phone the police? Earlier Frank had seemed almost certain that Carla wouldn't show up to the trial tomorrow, and then Peter barges in claiming that she's gone missing?

Anne prayed that it was just a coincidence. Because the alternative was just too unbearable to even consider.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: Thank you all SO much for all of your lovely reviews. It means more to me than you know. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I hope to keep the updates coming! This chapter is a bit on the short side, but I promise to try and update again soon! xoxoxo

Frank was positively seething.

He glared out the window at the car currently parked in front of his house, watching as the man sat inside lit up another cigarette and exhaled slowly – smoke drifting out of the driver's side window like a serpent.

Apparently, Peter Barlow had followed him home from work and it didn't appear as though he planned on leaving anytime soon. Frank had wanted to go to her tonight, if only to make sure she was enjoying her new accommodations. But with Barlow busy watching his every move, that would be impossible now.

Once again, the little shit was coming between him and Carla – like a pathetic stalker who just couldn't take a hint.

"What are you looking at?" His mother asked, interrupting his staring contest with the other man.

"Nothing," Frank replied, quickly turning his attention away from the window as she approached. "You off to bed soon? It's getting late."

"I suppose." Anne sighed, she looked distressed. "Not sure how much sleep I'll get though."

"Why? Is there somat wrong?"

"It's Carla," She admitted, and Frank couldn't help but notice the way she averted her gaze. "Do you really think she won't show up for court tomorrow?"

"Well, according to her psycho boyfriend – she's done a runner."

"It just seems odd that she would leave now. Especially when she were so intent on bringing this absurd case to trial in the first place."

"She probably just realized that no one in their right mind was going to believe her lies about what happened that night and instead of sticking around to see my name cleared, she decided to take off instead."

"Without telling anyone?" Anne reasoned, still unconvinced.

"What can I say? Carla is an extremely unpredictable woman," Frank explained, trying his best to ease her concerns. "It's one of the things I love about her."

"Don't you mean _loved_?" His mother corrected him, a look of suspicion on her face.

"Yes. Past tense, of course." Frank nodded before quickly changing the subject. "Anyroad, I best be off to bed myself. Got a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

"Do try not to worry, my dear." Anne said, looking far more worried than he felt. "Everything is going to be fine."

"Better than fine," Frank agreed as he placed a kiss on the elderly woman's cheek. "Goodnight, mum. See you in the morning."

And with that, Frank left the room and headed upstairs. He could tell that his mother was beginning to get suspicious. She had been acting strange around him ever since their encounter with Peter Barlow.

Frank was really beginning to hate that man.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He could hear her screaming for help as he frantically unlocked the heavy wooden door, the bolts were stiff and his hands trembled from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

It seemed to take forever, but at long last he managed to dislodge the final lock and used all of his strength to push open the door that had ensured her captivity. He couldn't see her at first, the room was pitch black and hollow. But as his eyes began adjusting to the darkness, he could make out the figure of a woman in the far corner of the room. She looked incredibly pale, skin almost translucent in the darkness that surrounded her. She was far too thin, gone was the pregnancy weight she'd gained just weeks before. And her hair was longer, a tangled mass of jet black waves that hung way past her shoulders.

But most importantly, she was alive and that were all that mattered to him.

"Carla," He whispered, not wanting to frighten her as he slowly entered the room. "Sweetheart, it's me."

"Peter?" She replied, her voice incredibly hoarse from screaming. How long had she been crying out for help? Cries that went unanswered as she lay captive in this cold, damp, rat infested cellar.

Peter felt his heart clench painfully in his chest at the thought of her unimaginable suffering.

"Yes. I'm here, now. You're safe." He soothed, resisting the urge to run and gather her up in his arms. He had no idea what that bastard had done to her – didn't know if she would want him to touch her just yet.

"Oh, Peter." Carla sighed as she ran across the room and flung herself into his arms. He held her close, alarmed by how thin and frail she felt.

"Are you alright?" Peter whispered into her ear. He needed to get her to a hospital.

"I am now that you're here." Carla whispered back, lifting her head to meet his gaze – a smile on her painfully chapped lips. "I knew you'd come."

"Let's get you out of here, Love." Peter suggested, placing his arm around her tiny waist as he lead her towards the door.

"I can't leave," She protested, her eyes darting around the room frantically. "Not without the baby."

"Sweetheart, I'm sure the baby is going to be just fine." Peter tried to reassure her, as well as himself. She was so very, very thin. "But we need to get you to a hospital to make sure that both of you are okay."

"Frank must have taken her…" Carla continued, her voice sounded absolutely frantic with worry.

"Who?" Peter asked, both confused and alarmed by her behaviour.

"The baby, Peter!" She screamed. "He has our daughter. He's taken her again, I know he has!"

"Carla, please calm down. You're just confused…"

"Shhhh! I can hear her crying." She whispered, eyes wide and full of tears as she stared up at him pleadingly. "Can't you hear her crying?"

"Carla, please just…"

Peter's words became lodged in his throat as he heard the unmistakable sound of a baby crying – the noise piercing his ears as it grew louder, more insistent. The cries seemed to be coming from every direction, each wail more deafening than the last. Peter clenched his eyes shut as he covered his ears, trying in vain to block out the terrifying noise. The room had begun to shake violently, the ground beneath his feet caving in.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be….

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Peter Barlow smashed his head against the car window as he jolted awake – finally escaping the nightmare that had haunted his troubled sleep. Hissing in pain, he rubbed his forehead to try and ease the discomfort.

That were one hell of a dream. Hell being the operative word.

But as farfetched as it were, the nightmare had left him deeply unsettled. He couldn't really explain why, but Peter was now more certain than ever that Carla was in trouble and that Frank had something to do with it. He would just have to watch Foster like a hawk until he eventually lead him to…

"Fuck!" Peter cursed when he noticed that Frank's car was no longer in the driveway. He must have snuck off when Peter had fallen asleep.

For all he knew, that sonofabitch could be with her right now! Just the thought of Frank Foster being anywhere near Carla was enough to make his blood boil. If he hurt her again, if he even touched her at all, Peter would kill him.

But he had to find Carla first – had to make sure she was okay, that they were _both _okay.

"I will find you, Sweetheart." Peter whispered into the empty confines of his car. "I promise."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carla awoke instantly when she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. She had been dreaming of Peter – they were lying in bed together, his head resting on her swollen belly as he spoke softly to their child.

Almost instinctively, Carla placed a hand over her slightly rounded tummy – wanting to protect her baby from the monster that was currently unlocking the cellar door. She pressed her back against the wall, trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

The door flung open and Carla jumped at the sound, squinting as light filled the previously dark room.

"Honey," Frank sneered, a menacing grin on his face. "I'm home!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks again for the great reviews, everyone! This chapter is ridiculously short, but I felt like posting it anyway. Hope you enjoy! More to come soon! xoxo

Undisclosed Location

February 6, 2012

1:12am

"You stay the hell away from me." Carla hissed, glaring at her captor as he entered the room – his presence an unwelcome relief. She were beginning to wonder if he'd left her there to rot.

"No need to be rude. I just came by to see how you're doing."

"Oh, that's rich." Carla laughed bitterly. "Frank Foster, the world's most compassionate kidnapper."

"I really am a nice bloke, you know. Despite what you may think."

"You must have a pretty warped definition of the word 'nice'." Carla chuffed. He really was delusional.

"There were a time not so long ago when you would have agreed with me." Frank reasoned, taking another tentative step towards her.

"Yeah, well. That was before you raped me!" She screamed, leaping to her feet and pressing herself impossibly closer to the damp, cold wall behind her back.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Carla. But you gave me no other choice."

"You're sick in the head, Frank." She hissed defiantly, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"You made me this way! You and all your lies…" He shouted back, his calm façade finally cracking to reveal his true personality. Carla felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge as he approached, a predatory look in his eyes that made her stomach turn.

"Tell me the truth, Carla." Frank whispered, reaching out to stroke her cheek – she turned her head away in disgust. "Did you ever really love me?"

She briefly considered lying –telling him what he wanted to hear so that he would leave her alone. But in the end, she just couldn't do it. Pretending to love Frank had been hard enough before the rape, she couldn't bear the thought of it now.

"No." Carla replied truthfully, glaring up at him in defiance. "Never."

"I suspected as much." Frank nodded, a grim smile on his somber face. He turned away from her then and Carla thought he were going to leave. Instead, Frank swung his arm back and punched her hard across the face. Blinding pain shot through her instantly and Carla prayed she wouldn't black out – she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"It isn't very nice to go round telling lies, ya know." Frank declared, rubbing his fist to ease the pain caused by his knuckles smashing against her jawbone. "Good thing you won't be in court this morning to lie about me any further."

"When they find out what you've done to me now, rape charges will be the least of your worries." She spat back, trying to ignore the pain radiating through her face. She refused to play the victim. No matter what he did next, she wouldn't let Frank destroy her – not again.

Never again.

"Good thing no one is ever going to find out." Frank grinned, his confidence sickening. "Sweet dreams, Carla. I'll see you around."

"Don't you dare leave me in here, Frank!" Carla screamed, chasing after him as he left the room – locking the cellar door behind him and reducing her world to darkness once more.

"Frank!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Weatherfield Prison

February 6, 2012

3:15pm

He couldn't believe they'd actually sent him to prison.

And for what? He hadn't done owt that any other man wouldn't have done if put in the same situation. How could anyone in their right mind blame him for reacting the way he had? He only wished he'd done it sooner, and God knows he'd do it all over again if given the chance.

This whole situation really was outrageous – the very definition of a miscarriage of justice.

Peter Barlow just couldn't believe that he were the one currently sat in a jail cell while that piece of scum rapist had gotten off scot free.

As soon as the judge had declared it a mistrial due to Carla's absence from court, Peter had leapt over the partition and attacked Frank Foster in front of the entire courtroom. It had taken three security guards to finally pry Peter's hands from around Frank's neck. He wanted him dead – wanted to watch as the life slowly faded from his beady little eyes.

And the only reason he hadn't killed him right then and there was because Peter knew that if he did – he would be killing Carla as well. Frank was the only person who knew where she was and if Peter had any hope of finding her at all, he would need to keep the little bastard alive.

For now at least.

But Peter wouldn't be able to do much of anything if he were locked up. The longer they kept him in here, the longer Carla would be at Frank's mercy. He had to find a way out, and fast.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't posted a new chapter in ages. I was away on vacation and didn't have a chance to update. So to make up for it, this chapter is extra long! Annnd while I was away I started writing a new fic! I will hopefully have that one posted later on tonight. Thanks again for your wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming!

"I've decided not to press charges against Peter Barlow." Frank declared, popping open a bottle of champagne and pouring himself a large glass.

He was in the mood to celebrate.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" His mother replied – her response predictable, as if they'd had this conversation a million times before.

"Not completely, no." He grinned, taking a sip of his victory drink.

"That man tried to kill you," Anne continued, placing her glass of champagne down on the kitchen counter – not in the mood to celebrate. "He _would _have killed you if they hadn't pulled him off!"

"You can't blame him for being upset," Frank reasoned, trying his best to sound sincere. "After all, he just threw away his marriage for a lying little tramp and now everyone knows it."

"That doesn't excuse his behaviour." She argued. "And what if he comes after you again?"

"He won't." Frank replied confidently.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Just leave it, mum. Alright?" He shouted – then regretted it almost immediately. He didn't want to upset her, or alert her suspicions. "I know what I'm doing."

"Well, I hope you're right." Anne sighed, picking up her glass and taking a swig of bubbly.

"I'm always right." He smiled, trying to charm his way back into her good graces the way he used to do when he were a kid.

Frank had managed to get away with all sorts during his childhood. All those late nights spent sneaking out of the house – peeking through the neighbour's window hoping to catch a glimpse of their teenage daughter undressing.

Then there were those nights when he had gotten tired of just watching…

"I still can't believe Carla didn't show up in court today." Anne commented, her nonchalance unconvincing.

"I told you not to worry." Frank replied, trying to choose his words carefully. He could tell she was beginning to question his motives.

"Yeah," She replied, eyebrow raised in suspicion. "You did."

"Sally might be stopping by later on." Frank announced, trying to change the subject. He knew his mum was fond of the former Mrs. Kevin Webster.

"You two seem to be growing close." Anne observed, obviously pleased by this latest development in her son's love life.

"We are." He lied. Sally were nice and all, but she definitely wasn't his type.

"I'm glad, she's a lovely woman." Anne smiled, although it faded quickly. "Much more suitable for you than…"

"Let's not talk about Carla anymore tonight, okay?" Frank sighed, placing his empty glass down on the table beside his mum's. "I just want to put this whole mess behind me and move on."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." Anne agreed. "In fact, why don't we go away somewhere to celebrate properly?"

"Where did you want to go?" Frank asked, quickly warming to the idea. He deserved a holiday after everything he'd just been through.

But he would need to take care of a few loose ends first…

"How about if we took a trip out to the country house?" She suggested. "I know it's a bit chilly up there this time of year, but…"

"No!" Frank shouted, unable to censor his kneejerk reaction.

"Why not?" Anne questioned, obviously puzzled by his response. "We haven't been up there in ages."

"And there's a reason for that." He muttered under his breath, wishing she would drop the subject.

Frank didn't want his mother even thinking about the old country house – not now. Not while he had Carla Connor hidden away in the cellar.

"Oh, come on. You used to love going there as a child." Anne reasoned, her persistence making him anxious. He would need to move Carla to a new location soon. Somewhere more…permanent.

"Yeah, well I'm not a child anymore – alright?" Frank hissed –growing tired of the conversation. He walked over to where his mum stood and placed a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. "We'll talk about this later. I've got to head out for a bit."

"Don't stay out too late." She replied, making him feel like a kid again.

"Yes, mother." Frank grinned, giving her a wink as he left the room and headed for the front door.

This wouldn't take long. Unless, of course, Carla decided to disobey him and fight back.

Frank almost wished that she would.

He could think of more than a few ways he'd like to punish her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, you certainly made a spectacle of yourself today."

"Look, I didn't come here to have you read me the riot act. Alright?" Peter Barlow sighed, not in the mood to listen to one of his father's hypocritical lectures. He had just been released from prison – on the condition that he stay far away from Frank Foster.

As if that were gonna happen.

The only reason Peter hadn't gone straight round to Frank's after being released was because his dad had rung him on his mobile and told him to come home straight away – Simon needed him.

"How could you do it, Peter?" Ken continued, ignoring his son's protests. "How could you destroy your family by having an affair with _that _woman?"

"Oh, don't start…"

"I mean it, Peter! After everything Leanne's done for you and Simon, you go and betray her like this."

"You mean like how she betrayed me when she were carrying on with Nick Tilsley behind me back!" Peter shouted, his emotions getting the better of him.

"Is that what this is then? Some sick type of revenge?"

"My relationship with Carla has got nout to do with Leanne."

"So it's a _relationship_, is it?" Ken chuffed, his tone of voice sarcastic. "Judging by those photos I saw in court today, it looked more like your average tawdry affair to me."

"You may be an expert in extramarital affairs dad, but you've got this one all wrong. There is nothing cheap or tawdry about my feelings for Carla."

"You think you're in love with her, don't you?" Ken sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. "Carla Connor isn't the type of woman you fall in love with, Peter – trust me . Now you've had your fun, but it's time for you to come to your senses and get your priorities straight."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Peter argued, he wasn't having this.

"Oh, but I do – I'm an expert in cheating, remember?" Ken pointed out sarcastically before his voice grew more serious. "Go home and try to work things out with Leanne. Don't throw your marriage away for something that could never last."

"Carla and I are solid, dad." Peter declared resolutely, this entire conversation were a complete waste of time. "I don't love Leanne, not anymore."

"So the three of you are just going to be one big happy family now, are you?" Ken chuffed, unwilling to accept his son's decision to leave Leanne for Carla. "Have you even stopped to consider what kind of mother a woman like Carla Connor would be to our Simon?"

"A damn good one!" Peter shouted angrily. "How dare you judge her like that…"

"How can you stick up for her after the stunt she pulled today? Not showing up for court and leaving you to face the consequences of this affair on your own."

"You say that as if she had a choice!" Peter argued, completely exasperated with his dad. "Frank Foster has done something to her, I'm sure of it. I need to get out of here, I need to find her…"

"And what about Simon?" Ken asked. "Do you have any idea how confusing this is for him? The poor lad is devastated."

"Where is he?" Peter asked, feeling guilty for not asking about his son sooner.

"He's with Leanne – he asked for her."

"Fine," Peter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He wanted to go and comfort Simon, but he needed to find Carla first. "He can stay with Leanne for now, it's probably for the best. Me head's all over the place, dad. I've gotta go."

"And what should we tell your son when he asks for you again?" Ken said, his voice bitter.

"Tell him I'll be home soon, and that everything will be alright." Peter replied, hoping to God that were true. Because if he didn't find Carla soon, nothing in his life would ever be alright again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He's not coming back.

Carla was cold, thirsty and absolutely starving. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. Her stomach felt as though it were ready to devour itself. Not for the first time, Carla worried about the life growing within her. When she had first confirmed her pregnancy, the thought of becoming a mother had terrified her. Now, it was the thought of losing her child that terrified her the most.

He's not coming back.

She wondered if the trial had happened yet or not? There were no windows for her to look out of, no way of knowing if it were night or day. Carla wasn't even sure how long she'd been there, although that was probably for the best. Denial had become her best mate – it allowed her to believe that she had only been trapped for a few hours and that any minute now, Peter would burst through the door and take her home.

He's not coming back.

But denial could only comfort her for so long. It weren't enough to silence the voice inside her head – the one that kept telling her Frank was never coming back and she had been left there to die alone.

Carla wondered if Peter had ended things with Leanne? Part of her hoped that he hadn't gone through with it. At least then he would still have his happy little family to go home to at night. Eventually he would forget about her. And the child they'd conceived would be nothing more than a distant memory, a reminder of what could have been.

The tears she'd tried so hard to keep at bay finally escaped and Carla began to cry, her sobs of despair echoing loudly in the dark confines of her makeshift prison cell.

So caught up in her grief, Carla was completely caught off guard when the cellar door flung open and Frank entered the room.

"Don't cry, Love. I've come baring good news!" He exclaimed, moving towards her as she scampered away – her back pressed up against the wall.

"You're letting me go?" Carla whispered, trying to sound strong despite her tears.

"Afraid not, my dear. " Frank grinned, one hand hidden behind his back. "But thankfully I've been let go. You are looking at a free man."

"Congratulations." Carla replied bitterly, she didn't have the strength to care.

"Thank you. And in honour of this joyous occasion, I brought you a little treat." Frank declared as he revealed the bottle of Merlot from behind his back. "I thought you would prefer a bottle of red over champagne."

"I'd prefer a bottle of water," Carla hissed. "And somit to eat while you're at it."

"Carla Connor turning down fine wine in favour of water? I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm just full of surprises, me." Carla sighed, trying not to raise Frank's suspicion. She didn't want him to know about the baby. He would only use it against her.

"Well, we're all out of water so drink up." Frank said as he thrust the bottle of wine at her.

"Ta." She replied, grabbing the bottle from him – trying not to grimace when her hand touched his.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Have a drink." He instructed her, the glint in his eye unnerving.

"For some reason, I'm just not in the mood to celebrate." She replied, placing the bottle down on the floor beside her.

"Well I am, so just drink the damn wine!" Frank yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her up against the wall.

"You're hurting me." She whimpered, hating herself for sounding so weak but she just didn't have any fight left in her. She just prayed that it would be over quickly.

"Let her go, Frank." A familiar voice interrupted their confrontation and Carla had never felt more relieved in her entire life. She felt his grip on her loosen slightly as he turned to face the intruder.

"Mother?"


	11. Chapter 11

"I said let her go." Anne repeated, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. When she had followed Frank up to the old cottage, she knew he were up to something.

But she never imagined this.

"You shouldn't have come here." Frank replied, finally letting go of Carla as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Come over here, Love." Anne said quietly, motioning for Carla to come stand beside her. The poor woman looked absolutely petrified, her skin a ghostly shade of pale except for the large dark bruise around her eye.

"Are you alright?" Anne whispered as she helped Carla towards the cellar door.

"We can't let her go, mother. She'll ruin everything." Frank declared, his voice eerily calm.

"She needs a doctor." Anne reasoned, trying to appeal to any shred of decency her son still possessed.

"She needs to be taught a lesson, that's what she needs!" Frank bellowed, moving towards them abruptly. Carla cowered behind her – Anne could feel her practically shaking with fear.

"Frank, please calm down. You're frightening me." She pleaded with her son.

"Just get out of here, mother. This doesn't concern you."

"I can't do that, Frank." Anne replied, sounding much braver than she felt. Never in her entire life had she feared her own child. It was a very unnerving feeling.

When had her sweet little boy turned into _this_?

"Carla and I just need to talk about a few things." Frank explained, a devious smile on his face. "Isn't that right, darling?"

"Stay away from me." Carla whispered, her voice hoarse from misuse and dehydration.

"There you go again, making me out to be some kind of monster! I don't wanna hurt you."

"Looks to me like you already have." Anne said, referring to Carla's painfully black eye.

"She provoked me, mum. You know what she's like." Frank reasoned.

"Obviously I'm not a very good judge of character. I don't even know what me own son is capable of!"

"Oh, great. She's got you believing her lies now, has she?"

"Hard not to believe her now that I've seen what you're like with me own eyes." Anne replied, a look of disappointment on her face. "How could you, Frank?"

"Don't look at me like that! Like you're judging me – you're always judging me. Nothing I ever do is good enough for you!"

"You need help, Frank." Carla whispered, her voice a little louder this time.

"You shut your mouth or I'll shut it for ya!" Frank hissed as he leapt towards the pair of them. Anne moved to shield Carla with her body, trying to protect the younger woman from her enraged son.

"Sweetheart, please just calm down and we'll sort this whole mess out." Anne desperately tried to reason with him. She had never seen him act this way before – the look in his eyes was absolutely terrifying.

"I'm going to say this one more time, mother. Get out!" Frank shouted at her demandingly, his face mere inches away from her own. He was completely deranged and Anne was extremely afraid of what he might do next, but she stood her ground.

"I'm not leaving here without Carla." She argued, slowly backing up towards the cellar door – Carla's hand clasped tightly in hers.

"You stupid cow." Frank spat out bitterly as he reached out and grabbed his mother by her hair – throwing her to the ground in a violent fit of rage.

Carla screamed and watched helplessly as the older woman's head smashed against the concrete floor. Anne lay there completely motionless, a small pool of blood quickly pooling beneath her skull.

"Mother," Frank whispered, his voice tinged with pain and regret. "Wake up, mum. Please, wake up."

Carla knew that if she didn't make a run for it now, she would never leave that cellar alive.

So with Frank momentarily distracted, she ran out the door and bolted up the stairs – taking them two at a time as she tried desperately not to trip. She ran through the old house, frantically unlocking the front door before bolting outside into the cold night air. It was so dark out, the moon her only source of light as she ran through the woods. Her feet were bare – rocks and twigs scratching her skin with every step, but she barely registered the pain.

All she could do was keep running.

Carla was terrified to look back, afraid that Frank was chasing after her – hunting her down like an animal he intended to slaughter. If he could kill his own mother in cold blood, Lord knows what he would do to her.

She had to keep running, she had to find help!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Peter had been sat in his car outside Frank's house for hours and still no sign of him. He wasn't at the factory either, and no one on the street had seen him since the trial. Even his mum had gone and done a disappearing act.

Something was definitely up.

Peter sighed as he slipped his key into the ignition and prepared to leave. He had never felt so utterly helpless in his entire life. He knew Carla was out there somewhere, but he had no idea where to look. If he could only get his hands on that bastard, Frank Foster.

Peter was certain that Frank was behind all this and if he had hurt one hair on Carla's precious head, he would live to regret it.

Just as he was pulling out onto the street, Peter's mobile began to ring and for a split second he thought it might be her.

"What's up?" He spoke into the receiver as he brought the phone to his ear.

It was Leanne.

"Where are you?" She asked, as if she still had the right to.

"Out." He replied, being intentionally vague. He didn't want to deal with his soon-to-be-ex-wife right now. He had more important things to do – like find Carla, kill Frank and make sure no one ever hurt her again.

"You need to get over here. Simon is really upset."

"What's happened? Is he alright?" Peter asked, immediately worried about his son.

"He had a nightmare," Leanne explained. "Something about a dragon lady with black hair swallowing you alive."

"Very funny, Lea." Peter replied, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. He knew he was the one in the wrong for cheating on his wife, but it still pissed him off to hear her talk about Carla like that.

"Don't blame me, I'm just the messenger." She argued, bitterness in her tone of voice. "Are you gonna come take care of your son or not?"

"I'll be there soon." Peter said as he flipped the phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket. He was reluctant to give up his search for the night, but with no sign of Foster and no other leads to go on – Peter was at a standstill.

But as soon as he'd sorted things out with Si, Peter vowed to keep looking for her. He wouldn't rest until Carla was back in his arms, safe and sound.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I really think you ought to get to a hospital."

"I'm fine. Please just keep driving, we're almost there."

"But your feet are bleeding and you look so pale…"

"Just drive!" Carla shouted at the man behind the wheel, desperate to get back home – back to Peter.

She had run through the woods for what seemed like hours, convinced that Frank was chasing her the entire time. Eventually she had stumbled out onto an old country road just as a car was driving by. She had practically flung herself in front of it – jumping up and down as she frantically begged the driver to stop. She had jumped in the passenger side and screamed at the startled old man behind the wheel to get her the hell out of there.

Upon seeing her injuries, the man had wanted to take her to the nearest hospital right away but Carla had given him directions to Coronation Street and begged him to take her there instead. She had wanted to ring the police and tell them about what Frank had done, but the old man didn't have a mobile and Carla wasn't willing to make any unnecessary stops. Her main priority was getting as far away from Frank Foster's lair as possible.

She would ring the police later. Once she was in Peter's arms and could finally breathe again.

"Is this the place?" The old man asked as he pulled up in front of the bookies. They had driven by her apartment first and when she saw that Peter's car wasn't out front, she assumed that he was at home with Simon.

"This is it." Carla nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. It felt so good to be back in familiar surroundings.

It's amazing how being held captive in a dark cellar for days can make you appreciate the little things in life.

"Thank you so much for helping me. If you hadn't driven by when you did, I…" Her voice trailed off as a familiar face caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

It was Peter. He was walking down the street towards his apartment, cigarette smoke escaping his lips as he dug through his pocket in search of something – his keys maybe? It wasn't important. All she cared about was seeing him again. She desperately needed to feel his arms around her – needed to feel his warm breath against her cheek as he promised her that everything would be okay and that Frank would never be able to hurt her again.

Carla was just about to jump out of the car and run over to him when all of a sudden the apartment door opened to reveal Leanne standing in the doorway. She and Peter exchanged pleasantries before he threw his cigarette onto the cobbles and entered the apartment.

Carla's heart sank in her chest as she watched Leanne close the door behind him.

"Are you alright?" The old man asked, his concern for her apparent.

"Would you mind if we kept driving?" She replied, her voice hoarse with emotion as she fought the urge to burst into tears. "I think maybe you were right. I should get to a hospital."

"Glad to hear you've come to your senses, Love." He said, smiling in relief.

"I certainly have."


	12. Chapter 12

Weatherfield General

6:08am

"Where is she, where's Carla? Is she alright?" Peter was absolutely frantic with worry as he followed Michelle down the hospital corridor. "I can't believe she's been here all night, why the hell didn't you ring me sooner?"

"Oy, calm down would'ya?" Michelle hissed as she spun around to face him. "You shouldn't even be here, Carla begged me not to ring you at all."

"Why on earth would she do that?" Peter asked, confused.

"I don't know, she wouldn't say." Michelle explained as she lead him down the hallway towards Carla's room. "All I know is she were adamant that I not involve you."

"So why did ya?"

"She needs you, Peter. Whether she's willing to admit it to herself or not."

"Thanks, Michelle." He replied, smiling in gratitude. "I owe ya one."

"No need to thank me. Just look after her, alright? She's been through a lot." Michelle said as they came to a stop in front of Carla's room.

"This is Frank's doing, isn't it?" Peter asked, and the expression on Michelle's face was answer enough. He could barely bring himself to ask if she'd been…_assaulted_ again, but he needed to know.

"Did he…"

"No." Michelle replied, and relief flooded through him instantly.

"Thank, God." Peter sighed, peering through the window – trying to catch a glimpse of her. There was a nurse in the room, blocking his view. He needed to see her. Needed to assure himself that she really was alive and well.

"Go on then," Michelle encouraged him, motioning towards the door. "I'll pop round again later to see how she's doing."

"Alright, ta." Peter replied as he pushed open the door and entered the hospital room.

"Can I help you?" The nurse asked, turning round to peer at him in annoyance as he approached. Peter ignored her question, his attention focussed on the beautiful woman lying motionless in the hospital bed. His heart ached at the mere sight of her. She was so pale, her porcelain skin nearly translucent under the florescent lights. Her lips were painfully chapped and there was a dark bruise around her left eye – the sight of which made his teeth clench in anger.

Frank Foster was a dead man.

"Carla." He whispered, not wanting to wake her. She always looked so peaceful when she were asleep –the demons that haunted her waking hours banished from her dreams. Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to touch her, Peter reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched away from his touch and her eyes popped open, a mixture of fear and surprise in their emerald depths.

"Peter." Her voice was raspy and hoarse, it seemed painful for her to speak.

"Here, let me get you some water." He offered, already reaching for the pitcher – desperate to help her in any way he could.

"Why are you here? I didn't want you here." Carla groaned as she sat up in bed, wincing in pain as she did so.

"Do I need to call security?" Nurse Ratched volunteered, eager to get rid of him.

"No," Carla sighed, her gaze focussed on the door as she tried desperately not to look at him. "Just go, Peter. I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, look at me." He pleaded, hurt and confused by her rejection. "Please."

Reluctantly, she turned her head to meet his gaze. The expression on her face was one of betrayal and sadness. Peter could tell she was struggling to keep herself from crying – her bottom lip had begun to quiver slightly and her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"Carla, please talk to me." Peter begged, desperate to find out why she was so upset with him. "I've been so worried. I knew Frank had done something to you and I never stopped looking – I tried everything I could to find ya."

"You didn't seem to be looking very hard last night." Carla accused, bitterness in her voice. "Too busy playing happy families with Leanne."

"Last night…?" Peter was beyond confused.

"I saw the two of you together at your flat, so don't bother trying to deny it." She revealed, her voice sounding stronger now as her anger took over.

"Carla, Love. It wasn't like that…" Peter tried to explain, but she cut him off.

"You probably haven't even told her about us yet, have you?" Carla wrongly assumed, wiping away tears as she continued on with her tirade. "If you want to stay with your wife, why don't you just come right out and say so? Why keep stringing me along like this?"

"Perhaps I should give you two a bit of privacy?" The nurse interjected as she awkwardly made her way towards the door. "The doctor will be in shortly with your test results."

"Ta." Carla thanked the elderly woman as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

"What test results? Is everything alright?" He asked worriedly.

"Stop pretending like you care and go home to your wife, Peter." Carla hissed, glaring at him dismissively.

"Carla, you've got this all wrong. Leanne and I are finished. I ended things with her the day you went missing."

"Then why were you with her last night?" She questioned, still unconvinced.

"I was only there to see Simon. " Peter explained, sitting down beside her on the edge of the bed. "Leanne's been looking after him for me while I searched for you."

"So you didn't spend the night with her then?" Carla asked, her voice quieter now that she'd calmed down a bit.

"Of course not!" Peter chuckled, reaching out to take her hand in his. "As soon as our Si fell back asleep, I left to go try and find Frank again. I thought if I could track him down, he would eventually lead me to you. Not much of a plan, I know. But I was desperate to find you, I never gave up hope."

Carla was overcome with emotion at his words. She had been so quick to jump to conclusions when she'd seen Peter with Leanne last night. She should have known he wouldn't betray her like that, not after everything they'd been through together. And as frightened as she'd been while locked away in that cold cellar, she knew Peter must have been going out of his mind with worry the entire time.

"I'm an idiot." Carla sighed, feeling foolish for ever having doubted him. "All this time, the only thing keeping me going was the thought of seeing you again and now I've gone and ruined everything."

"Eh now, c'mere." Peter said as he gathered her up in his arms and rocked her gently as she wept. "You haven't ruined anything, Love. I'm just so relieved to have you back in me arms, safe and sound. If anything had happened to you…"

"I'm fine, Peter. Really, I am." Carla assured him as she sat back and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I just wish I could stop crying for five bloody seconds."

"Pregnancy hormones will do that to ya." Peter teased, then regretted it almost immediately when he saw the expression on her face. Was she just not ready to talk about it yet? Or was it something more serious than that?

"Is the baby alright?" Peter asked tentatively, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was.

"I dunno," Carla sighed, her fear and frustration apparent. "They did some blood work, still waiting to get the results."

"I'm sure everything's fine." He smiled reassuringly, trying to comfort her as well as himself.

"I thought about getting rid of it, ya know." Carla whispered, a sad smile on her guilt ridden face. "When I took the test and it were positive, I freaked out. I didn't wanna be pregnant, I didn't want to be a mum."

"And how do you feel about it now?" Peter asked, squeezing her hand gently as he urged her to continue.

"Now I'm terrified I've lost something precious, something that I want more than anything in the world." Carla admitted as she broke down in tears once more. Peter held her close, wishing he knew the right words to say that would put both of their minds at ease.

When he'd first figured out that Carla was pregnant, Peter wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of having another kid. But now the thought of anything happening to their baby made his heart clench painfully in his chest. If she'd miscarried because of what Frank had done to her, Peter would never be able to forgive himself. He should have found her sooner, he should have never let her out of his sight in the first place!

He'd let her down. He'd let them _both _down.

"Mrs. Connor?" A male voice interrupted as the door opened and a man in a white lab coat entered the room.

"Hello, Doctor." Carla sniffled, reluctantly moving away from Peter as she tried to compose herself.

"How are you feeling this morning?" The young doctor asked as he casually flipped through her chart.

"Better than last night." She replied, anxious to hear about her test results.

"I've got good news," He smiled. "Your blood work came back normal. Except for a mild case of dehydration, you appear to be fine."

"What about the baby?" Peter asked, his anxiety apparent as he reached for Carla's hand.

"I would like to do a scan just to be on the safe side, but judging from the blood work you had done – your baby seems to be doing just fine."

"Oh thank, God." Carla sighed, relief flooding through her as she turned to Peter and smiled. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"When can she have the scan done?" Peter asked, anxious to make sure that the baby really was okay.

"Right away, if you'd like? I can get one of the nurses to bring you over to the ultrasound room."

"That won't be necessary, I'll take her there meself." Peter declared. He knew he sounded possessive, but after everything that had happened – he really didn't give a damn. From what Michelle had told him over the phone, Frank was still out there somewhere. The cabin where he'd been holding Carla captive was empty when the police had arrived – no sign of Foster or his mother.

So as long as that evil bastard was still on the loose, Peter wasn't going to let Carla out of his sight.

"Right then. I'll let the technician know you're on your way down." The doctor agreed, glaring at Peter wearily as he left the room.

"I think you frightened him." Carla chuckled, surprised to find herself welcoming his over-protectiveness.

"Yeah well, I don't care. All the matters to me is keeping you and our baby safe." Peter vowed, reaching out to place his hand on her stomach.

"Our baby," Carla whispered, her eyes welling up with tears once more as she placed her hand atop his. "That's gonna take some getting used to."

"I dunno about that." Peter smiled, lacing his fingers through hers. "I quite like the sound of it already."

"I love you." She declared, blinking rapidly to stop herself from crying again.

"I love you too." He grinned, leaning forward to press his lips against hers. "Now, come on. Let's go see our baby."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**A/N: As always, thank you all SO much for all of the wonderful reviews and comments! I have decided that this will be the final chapter of Love Knows No Bounds. However, I do plan on writing a sequel that will pick up a few months into the future. Are Peter & Carla really ready to have a baby together? How will Simon react to having a new baby brother or sister? Will Leanne's jealousy towards Carla lead her to do something stupid? I'm willing to bet we haven't heard the last of Frank Foster! And is Anne alive or dead? All will be revealed in the sequel!**

**Thanks again, everyone! Team Carter for life! **


End file.
